The Campaign of the Forty-fifth Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteer Militia "The Cadet Regiment"
CHAPTER VIII.
LIFE IN NEWBERN.
At an early hour on the long-expected day, the detail for guard left the camp, and soon after breakfast, the rest of the regiment started, in the best possible spirits, for its new quarters, making quite a triumphal entry into the captured city, with band playing and colors flying. Crossing the railroad bridge, we marched directly to Broad street, the parade-ground of all troops occupying the city. There the out-going regiment, the 17th Mass., were drawn up in line to welcome the new-comers; and after the customary manoeuvres required by military etiquette, the command of the city was tendered to Colonel Codman, and the companies ordered to their respective quarters.
The lines of Company A had ever fallen in pleasant places, and our good luck did not desert us, for we found ourselves in possession of the nicest of the houses assigned to the regiment; in fact, one of the prettiest places in the town. It was a two-storied, wooden building, on Pollock street, the principal street of Newbern, lighted with gas, but of course wholly destitute of furniture. It had flower-gardens in front and on both sides, while in the rear were one or two acres of land covered with various kinds of fruit-trees, several fig-trees among the number. There was also a cook-house, barn, and out-buildings, all, except the barn, fitted up with bunks for the accommodation of those who could not obtain a corner in the main building.
All the rooms in the house, excepting those reserved for the officers, were lined with bunks, the parlor alone having seventeen occupants. The name of "Pierce" still adorned the front door, and we would embrace this opportunity to tender to the individual rejoicing in the name of "Pierce," our most sincere thanks for the noble manner in which he retired to the country and generously yielded up his house and grounds, rent free, to the use of the Yankee soldiery.
Company K occupied the next house, and opposite them were the quarters of Company D, while across the street was the house occupied by General Hill, the rebel commander, for his headquarters when in the city. Just below, on the next corner, was the building employed by the provost marshal, and the headquarters of the provost guard. The companies were somewhat scattered, for the greater security of the city.
The duty of the provost guard was somewhat as follows. The city was divided into three districts; the first district was the south-eastern part of the town, and embraced the business quarter, having its headquarters at the provost marshal's. Here was the guard-house, where all persons arrested were kept till examination was made and sentence passed over them,--like the station-house of the police. The second district comprised the northern portion of the town, having its headquarters in the old office of the Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad. This was situated next the depot, and the desk and safe of the company remained in their old places. General Foster's headquarters, and the house occupied by his family, were in this district, and under the especial care of the guard. The third district covered the remainder of the town, the south-western portion, and was the least important of the three.
The daily detail for guard was as follows: One captain, three lieutenants, three sergeants, ten corporals and one hundred and ninety-seven privates. The absence of two companies, G and I, and the large number of men on detached service, rendered the duty of the privates quite arduous, as the large detail necessitated their going on guard every other day, with an occasional interval of two days; but the officers, non-commissioned as well as commissioned, had a very easy time of it.
Guard-mounting took place on Broad street, every morning at eight o'clock, and was quite an attraction for idlers, the band always taking part. After the customary manoeuvres, each lieutenant marched his guard to the district assigned him, so that it was nearly ten o'clock by the time the old guard was relieved and returned to quarters. The men at the head of the line were assigned to the first district, and as that was the most popular of the three, there was a regular race every morning for the first place, and sometimes an enterprising company would be on hand half an hour before the required time. But, after a while, the companies alternated in their position in the line, and so all competition was at an end.
The guard was divided into three reliefs; the first being on duty from nine to one, both morning and night; the second from one to five, and the third from five to nine. The first relief was through with its labor at one o'clock A. M., while the third had the whole night from nine to five to sleep, and the day to loaf, so the choice between these two was about equally divided, but the second relief, being a sort of nondescript, was scouted by all.
There were two detached stations, both under command of a corporal, which were very much liked by the men. The first was at the railroad bridge, which, as the main entrance to the city, for all on foot or horseback, was an important point. More than one poor corporal lost his stripes when at this post, for some slight dereliction of duty. There were sentry-boxes on the bridge for stormy weather, and a cosy little guard-room with a nice bed of shavings, much more comfortable than the hard boards in the other guard-rooms. No one was allowed to pass over the bridge in either direction without a permit, and special instructions were issued against allowing any vehicle to cross without an order from department headquarters.
The other station was at the Pollock Street Jail,--jail in name, but nothing but a large wooden dwelling-house. It was occupied by rebel prisoners, disloyal citizens, and occasionally by a United States officer under arrest. The jailer was a great burly corporal of the 23d Massachusetts, who was afterwards promoted to a lieutenancy in the North Carolina native regiment. The guns of the sentries here were always loaded, and the orders were to shoot on the slightest attempt to escape,--a very necessary precaution, where but two men kept guard over a house having at times as many as sixty prisoners. Their fare was the same as that furnished to our men, and often better. The prisoners brought in were for the most part a wretched-looking set of men; dirty to filthiness, ragged, ignorant and stupid, many of them the clay-eaters of North Carolina. There was a rebel surgeon confined there for a long time, an intelligent, educated man from New Orleans, with whom we had many a talk on the topics of the day, upon which he kept himself well informed.
There was a great choice in the sentry-stations over the city, and the men very quickly became acquainted with their various excellences and respective merits. Some were under cover, others were not needed at night; at this one a breakfast was furnished by a kind neighbor, at another, the guard was sure of some dinner, while some were wholly undesirable, being on some bleak, unprotected corner, exposed to wind and rain.
Guard duty had sufficient variety to relieve it from monotony, and while many a ludicrous scene happened, occasionally, occurrences not wholly devoid of danger, served to keep us alive. Some one would report a disturbance, and ask for a guard to restore peace; whereupon volunteers would be called for, and two or three start off, ready for anything that might turn up. Some drunken soldier has, perhaps, made himself at home in a house, to the obvious discomfort of the inmates, and refuses to be dislodged; but the ugly look of the bayonet soon brings him to terms, and he is marched off to the guard-house, and allowed an opportunity to consider his evil ways, in solitary confinement. Occasionally, one with enough liquor to make him ugly, refuses to show his pass, and even attempts to seize the gun of the guard, when most unexpectedly, he receives the butt of the musket in his face, and, beginning to realize that "discretion is the better part of valor," submits, and is led off, a soberer and wiser man.
When some of the old New York and Pennsylvania regiments were encamped near the town, their men were very apt to make trouble during their visits to Newbern, and it often ended in their passing the night at the guard-house. One afternoon, two six-foot Irishmen came over the bridge, and on entering the town, refused to show their passes. Both had guns and bayonets, and threatened to kill any one who should attempt to arrest them. It was not until aid arrived from the guard-house, and they had been stretched out with the butt of a pistol, that they quieted down and consented to go and be locked up. Once we were stopped in the street by a native, and asked to come and arrest a drunken fellow, who had threatened to stab his wife, the niece of my informant. Although unaccustomed to interfere in family troubles, such a summons could not be neglected. The man was a citizen of Newbern, and on our arrival was asleep on a sofa, while the poor wife was weeping in the cook-house. Arousing him, we made known our errand; and the accusations and tears of the wife, together with the maudlin stupidity of the man, were pitiful to witness. It is to be hoped that three day's solitary confinement, on bread and water, brought him to a realizing sense of his conjugal duties.
One day, a person just arrived from Fortress Monroe, made complaint at the provost marshal's, of the theft of some of his baggage by one of the hands employed on the steamer. A guard was immediately sent to the steamer to arrest the criminal, and a portion of the stolen goods was found among the effects of one of the firemen, but the man himself was missing. Feeling convinced however, that the fellow was concealed somewhere on the vessel, they commenced a search, high and low, for the guilty one, and just as they were about to give up in despair, one of the guard chanced to look under one of the boilers, and there discovered the culprit, squeezed in almost out of sight. On being requested to come forth, he refused flatly, and being out of reach he could not be dragged out. A loaded pistol was produced, and aimed at his head, when some one suggested the hose, and a stream of dirty water was quickly brought to bear on the hapless victim. In vain did he squirm and writhe; he had to succumb, and finally crawled out from his hiding-place more dead than alive, and was carried in triumph to the guard-house to answer for his sins.
We were by no means idle on the days off guard. Four times a week, when the weather permitted,--and the days were rare when it did not permit,--we were indulged in the delights of brigade drill. Coming off guard at ten o'clock, the order would sound through the yard, immediately after dinner, which was earlier on those days, "Fall in for brigade drill, blouses and caps!" and at noon we formed regimental line on Broad street, and from there marched a long two miles over the railroad bridge, to the plain near our old barracks on the Trent. Here we were joined by the 17th, 43d and 51st Mass., and manoeuvred by Colonel Amory for two or three hours. "Echelon by battalion at forty paces," "form line of battle on third battalion, right in front," etc., became as familiar as household words, and all of us felt competent to handle a brigade. Still it was always a happy moment when we saw our commander sheathe his long sabre, and no order was obeyed with such celerity and precision, as the one which invariably followed this action, "march off your battalions." The men were always in the best of spirits on the march back to town, and many a song and joke beguiled the weary way.
Twice a week, also, we had battalion drill, sometimes in the streets, and occasionally in one of the fields on the outskirts of the town. As we were very apt to have spectators during our street drills, the colonel was especially vexed at any blunders committed by the officers, and woe betide the unfortunate one who incurred his censure on those days, for he spoke his mind on the spot, to the great delight of the file, and the discomfiture of the rank.
But all this drill was not thrown away, and for accuracy and quickness of movements, we yielded the palm to no regiment in the department. The great feature of the day, however, was the dress-parade. Every afternoon, a little before five o'clock, there was a general struggle for blacking and brushes, "dress coats and hats" being the countersign for the hour. Nightly, with our white gloves and good clothes, we formed company in the back yard, where we had a preliminary drill in the manual, to get our hand in for the show performance. Then off we marched to the parade-ground on the next street, occasionally going through with a battalion drill, on our own account, while on the way to our place in line.
The regiment stretches along the north side of the street and the colonel takes his station on the opposite sidewalk, which is regularly occupied by a long row of lookers-on. Here, as elsewhere, our company was in good luck, having the centre of the line, and as the best drilling was to be seen there, it was accordingly directly opposite the fair faces, who deigned to grace our parade with their presence. Many thanks, fair ladies, for the innocent pleasure your bright faces afforded us poor fellows, many of whom, for eight weary months, did not so much as speak to a lady. Nor was your presence simply a pleasure but a benefit to the regiment; for what man could look aught but neat and tidy with such eyes to criticise? who would not excel in drill to win applause from such lips?
When, occasionally, the familiar face of some Boston gentleman appeared in the crowd, it was pleasant to see the start of amazement with which he greeted the first strains of music as the band beat down the line. Could these be the same men who labored so hard at Readville to produce some semblance to music? The band had indeed improved wonderfully, and it was now a positive pleasure to hear them play. Guard-mounting and dress-parade, from being a decided bore, had come to be really enjoyable. Nothing is more enlivening and inspiriting than good martial music; it relieves the monotony of all military parades, and refreshes the weary both in body and soul. When one is exhausted with marching, and to drag one leg after the other is a sore task, let the band strike up, and the inspiring sounds infuse new life into the tired frame; it makes the way look short and easy, which, but the moment before, had seemed interminable. Nor were the duties of the band confined to the department of music; for on the field of battle they did excellent work as members of the ambulance corps, and all who had need of their assistance will remember with unceasing gratitude their kind service and tender care.